SAGA ONE: EPISODE I: SUPERMAN
by The Lone Scribe
Summary: The first installment in my attempt to reboot the DC Comics Universe, beginning with the Man of Steel. Follow Clark Kent on his journey to become Superman in a new and different world.
1. Chapter 1

Saga One

Episode I: Superman

Chapter One: First Flight

The intense, scorching heat of the bright, yellow sun roasted the dry ground of the Mojave, fracturing the earth as if it were made of plaster. A lone figure walked this hazy scene, braving the brilliant star's penetrating rays in an unknown quest, drawing ever nigh to an unknown destination. Raising a hand to his brown face in order to catch a vagrant strand of long dark hair from his brow, he turned his eyes heavenwards and gazed upon the sprawling blue sky. A dark blot was on the face of the sun. Puzzled, he squinted as he shielded his eyes from the glare, the lone traveller gazed at the blemish on the face of Sol wondering what it could be. As he stared skyward the blot grew until it became apparent that it was not an anomaly peculiar to the star but, to his own atmosphere. His eyes widened as the blot became a blazing ball of fire raining from the sky. The traveller lunged to the ground as the fireball flew overhead at an unearthly speed, peering over his shoulder he watched as the nameless object left a trail of fire and smoke on its passage north. Thanking the spirits for his survival he regained his feet and continued upon his unknown odyssey to face many more strange and unusual sights. However, the flaming star continued its northern journey finding its resting place amongst an idyllic copse of Ponderosa pines, decimating them as it pounded its way into the hardened earth.

1860\. 200 years later.

Jeremiah Kent wiped his sweaty brow as he stretched his aching back muscles, turning he admired the sweeping pasturelands now known as the Kent family ranch. His family ranch. Smiling at that thought he looked down at his eldest son Joseph in the deep well they were digging "time to get back to work, this well won't dig itself!" he called to him. Joseph, leaning on his shovel looked up "All right, Pa" Joseph hollered back from the bottom of the freshly dug pit. As his son filled a bucket with dirt Jeremiah hauled it out and dumped it to the side "how much further 'til we strike water?" Joseph questioned "hopefully not too far" his father replied. "Ah!" Joseph cried as his shovel hit something hard under the earth and the force of his thrust reverberated back up the wooden handle of the shovel, stinging his wrists. "What happened?" Jeremiah asked "I hit a rock!" Joseph responded. Joseph thrust his shovel into the ground again "Ouch!" again his wrists protested as his shovel struck a hard obstacle this time producing a metallic clang.

"Did you hear that?" Joseph asked his father, "Sure did…doesn't sound like any rock I've ever dug" he replied. Joseph felt around with his shovel "whatever it is it's under this whole area". "Well, dig around a little" Joseph began to clear the surface of dirt covering the mysterious object. "What the devil?" Joseph exclaimed leaning back both amazed and bewildered "What's going on? What is it?" Jeremiah asked straining to see what his son had uncovered "That ain't no rock" Joseph replied.

Emmeline Kent winced as a sharp rock stabbed at her foot through the thin fabric of her shoe, causing her to nearly spill the bucket of water she had collected from the stream. Blowing a puff of hair from her brow she thought of how good it would be once her husband and son had finished digging a well near their newly built ranch house. No longer would she have to walk to the stream every time they were in need of water. Lost in thought she almost didn't notice her husband, Jeremiah, standing on the hill their house was built upon with a baby in his arms. "Where did that child come from?" she queried as her mind raced, searching through numerous explanations for its arrival. There was no carriage, wagon, or rider in sight no one could have brought this child to their ranch. "You're gonna' have a hard time believing this one Em" Jeremiah replied.

"Just like Moses in the bulrushes" Emmeline said after hearing of how Jeremiah and Joseph had discovered a strange metallic container underground that, to their surprise, had opened to reveal an infant boy sleeping peacefully within. "We cannot just leave the child to an orphanage, we must ensure that he is well cared for" Emmeline implored "But we don't know how this child came to be in the ground Em" Jeremiah replied, "It Is a frightfully uncommon thing." "It doesn't truly matter now does it? Said his wife "It is here now, perhaps providence has sent us this child for a reason we cannot yet see." "Tis' miraculous" Joseph added hopefully "You see, Husband? Now I don't much care for any more protest out of you, this child is as good as family now." Jeremiah sighed, "All right then" was all he could say.

1872 Nineteen years later.

Clark Kent waited for the torrential Nevada rain to stop, hoping that she might not come to harm in the foul, tempestuous weather. The cold did not bother him, nothing much ever did, ever since he was young when the other children were at play or work he never received scrapes and bruises like they did. The Kent family had always passed it off as something of a joke, "Clark's got a rock like constitution" they would laugh, others never understood the private joke. But their light-hearted attitude could never truly ignore the proverbial elephant in the room, Clark was different and only the Kent family had an idea as to why. But not as to how, Clark shrugged his jacket uneasily, the rain was exceptionally loud in his ears under the pavilion. His hearing had been giving him problems lately, sounds seemed far louder to him than to others, he was even overhearing private conversations. Others perhaps may have found this enhancement in eavesdropping a blessing but, constant voices and sounds coming from other rooms was something of a torment to nineteen year old Clark. The rain began to let up and across the park the tailor's door opened and Miss Lana Lang exited through it. Clark smiled as he heard her soft footsteps crossing the swampy earth admiring her fiery hair as she walked to meet him under the pavilion. "Hello, Miss Lang, It's lovely to see you on this fine afternoon." Lana laughed as Clark doffed his hat to her "Why, its mighty fine to be seeing you Mr. Kent if I may say so." "You may." Clark replied, Lana blushed as she brushed a droplet of rain from her cheek, "Then may I also inquire as to why you asked me here this afternoon?" Clark bowed his head as he reached into his trousers pocket looking at Lana he dropped to his knee as he pulled out a ring. Lana's cheeks turned to beetroot as Clark proposed, "I asked you here on this fine, sunshiny afternoon in order to ask for your hand in marriage." "I suppose this is why mama said I could head into town today." Lana stuttered, "It may" Clark replied "though I didn't catch an answer there," "why of course Clark" Lana responded. Clark leaped to his feet, wrapping his arms around Lana, "just wait 'til I tell my sisters" was all she could say.

1918 Forty Years Later

It was a crisp and early morning, the grassy French fields were swept by a chilled April breeze making its way across the pastureland. Clark paused to admire the swish of the cool breeze on his face before he turned back to the work at hand. The American Expeditionary Force was seeing combat for only the second time in the war, the Imperial Australian forces would be taking the lead in the upcoming assault upon the German position. Hoping to instil confidence in the inexperienced American troops to the Allied powers. "So… you uh…nervous?" a voice to his left questioned, Clark looked at the young 18 year old private Samuel Wilson, who stood fiddling with his kit. "Yeah, I think we all are." Clark replied, "Those other fella's don't seem to be." Sam nodded in the direction of couple of American soldiers in their early twenties standing just out of earshot, laughing as they puffed on cigarettes. "Those kind of guys just hide it behind a few laughs and jaunts, inside they'll be shaking like a leaf." Clark responded, Sam grinned "yeah, 'spose you're right." Clark pulled out a crinkled photo of Lana out of his pocket smoothing it as he did so. "That your ma?" Sam asked, Clark stared at the photo. It had been years since he and Lana had married. Not too long after they had discovered they couldn't have children, most assumed Lana was incapable of conceiving but, Clark and the Kent family suspected otherwise. As time had progressed it soon became obvious that Clark was not progressing with it, continuing to look like a man in his early twenties even as Lana entered her forties. Eventually he was forced to leave as it was no longer conceivable that Clark Kent was just 'aging well' Lana told everyone in the ever-growing town of Smallville that he had died in a train wreck. Clark continued to live on the ranch using his 'special abilities' in order to keep out of sight of the ranch hands. "No, just someone special" Clark responded after a delay, "All right! Get up! Get moving!" came a shout from their CO, it was time. Clark and Sam hurried to get into formation as preordained by their NCO's, unslinging his rifle from his shoulder Clark gazed at the hulking mass of metal that was the Mark V 'tank' that would be leading the assault upon the German lines. The town of Hamel was an important strategic position to the allied powers and Clark's 131st Infantry Regiment was to be play an important role in its capture. Moving under the cover of darkness, the allied troops crept forward as the artillery began its destructive role in the bloody clash that was to come. It was at this point that tragedy struck, before they even reached their objective Clark's platoon was struck a devastating blow, not by their foe, but by their own artillery. He could hear it coming, he whipped his head around seeing it before anyone else. "Look ou…" the shell hit the ground in the front row of the platoon, blowing them into a dozen pieces of burning flesh. Clark shoved Sam to the ground, leaping on top him and taking the force of the blast upon himself as it blew the other young men around him apart. As the noise died in his ears he stood…not believing what he was seeing… bodies, arms, legs and unrecognisable pieces of flesh were strewn around him. Why had he come here? Why was he experiencing this horror? He had joined the army out of some notion of bringing justice to those who had killed civilians. Helpless civilians, men, women and children drowned because of a war far away that they had had no part in. Now he was here 'holding them accountable, they can't get away with such violence' but now that was the last thing he wanted to think about. "Aaarrrghh!" Sam groaned, Clark was yanked from the petrifying scene, seeing that Sam was alive he lifted him up into his arms and clambered out of the ditch. Clark walked as artillery exploded around him, the chatter of machine gun fire and the thunder of bombs as they hit the earth, created a cacophony of sound, one that he would never forget. Clark walked as if in a daze, clutching to the barely breathing but, alive wounded private until he reached a medical tent.

One Day Later

Sam beamed up at Clark as he entered the crowded hospital room, seating himself at the end of Sam's bed. "You're looking pretty good for a guy who just got hit by a flying pig!" Clark laughed, "I'm looking good! Look at you!" Sam exclaimed in amazement "the nurse told me what happened, that you carried me all the way back from the field, how did you do it?" Clark shrugged "I don't understand it myself all I remember is the explosion and arriving back at the tent" He always felt uneasy lying but, had been forced to develop a capable poker face very early in life in order to hide his unique talents. "You saved my life Clark, I can never thank you enough for it" Sam looked Clark straight in the eye, earnestly trying to communicate to him just how grateful he was. It was then that Clark realised what he was meant to do, what he needed to do. He needed to save people.


	2. Chapter Two Launch

Saga One

Episode I: Superman

Chapter Two: Launch

1939\. Twenty Two Years Later.

The buzz of conversation and the clatter of typewriters permeated the office of the Daily Planet just as the heat of the sun filled the coastal city of Metropolis. It had been two decades since the end of the Great War and the horrors it had entailed still lingered with its survivors, Clark included. He had left the army after the armistice determined to pursue a path dedicated to helping others. Either through the medical profession or some other area where he could pursue his humanitarian goals. After the war he had spent time travelling around Europe, lending a helping hand where he could in the rebuild. But, enmity was high and working together for the greater good was far from most people's minds, so Clark returned to the U.S. Enrolling in medical school he began an attempt at saving lives through his profession, he made it three years before the depression hit. Already struggling to pay his way through medical school Clark was forced to drop out, becoming part of the unemployed masses. Looking for any kind of job, Clark was able to scrape by on a few cents he earned at the former newspaper giant the 'Daily Planet'.

Pushing his way through the chaos of the news room, arms full of papers, the discord of Clark's mind was interrupted by a shout, "War in Europe! Britain and France are at war with Germany!" There was a brief moment of silence before the cacophony erupted again thrice louder than it had been before.

"Here we go again" Clark thought to himself, America would join in eventually, Clark knew it in his gut "This time it'll be different, this time I'm not going to kill people, I'm going to save them."

1950\. Twelve Years Later.

The radio crackled as the truck dipped into an exceptionally deep road pit, breaking Bob Cosby's 'Way Back Home' in the middle of the chorus. Clark gazed out the open window over the wide Nevadan plains as he drove towards the Kent ranch. It had been four years since he had seen his family, after the war life had been difficult for the ranch as both Mark and young Timothy had been killed in action. Clark kicked himself mentally for not having been there more often for Jonathan, Sarah and the kids, left without a son, brother, father, and husband. Pulling up to the ranch house three young bundles of curly blonde hair came streaking out of the porch door. Grinning, Clark got out of his truck and was dive bombed by John, Rose, and Glenda Kent, Mark's three children. Helen, Mark's widow, stood in the open doorway watching the merry scene, "Welcome home!" She called. "It's good to be back" Clark replied, "What on earth have you terrors been eating?" He teased the children, "You've sprung up like a couple a ol' weeds!" "I'm notta' weed!" little Glenda stated firmly, "I'm a cowgirl!" "That so little miss?" Clark replied laughing, "It's good seein' ya' again, Uncle Clark" said John happily "It's good to see you all too" Clark said, ruffling the boy's hair. "Come on in Clark, Jonathan and Sarah will be glad to see you again." Called Helen, beckoning Clark indoors "Come on then sprouts" Clark said to the children as he trod towards the house.

Entering the living room Clark was momentarily taken aback by Jonathan and Sarah's appearance. It could be easy to forget just how much people could change over the course of time. "Clark! It's been to long!" Jonathan exclaimed as he pulled himself out of his armchair, "Why, you don't look a day older!" Sarah exclaimed, shock showing in her wrinkled face. "Why of course he does Hun, what'd you expect? You've known him near fifty years and he hadn't aged any during that whole time." Jonathan reprimanded her as he gripped Clark's shoulder, "Oh, I know it's just… well, we haven't seen you in so long you see and…" "It's all right Sarah," Clark replied, "Truth be told it catches me off guard too." "I bet we caught you a little of guard with our old looks now didn't we?" Jonathan laughed, "Now enough standing around talking about appearances, sit yourself down and have a drink." Clark felt instantly at home amongst the Kents, he had seen generations pass before his eyes yet this family's heart had stayed the same.

Later that night after Helen had taken the children to bed, Clark and Jonathan headed outside to the porch for a drink and a private chat. "I hate to ask you Clark, and if it isn't something you wanna' talk about then its fine by me, but, how'd things go over there?" Clark looked out at the stars for a moment before answering. "After the last war I just couldn't believe that that level of violence and destruction could ever surface again." He replied, Jonathan nodded, "Neither could I Clark, I saw most of my regiment die in the last one." Clark sighed "I thought that I could make a difference this time, change something." "There isn't any changing the way politicians do things Clark." Jonathan replied, "Not an ordinary person maybe, but I should be different, I should be able to do something." He replied, clenching his fists in emphasis. Jonathan looked up at the stars, as if searching for an answer. "You are still just one man Clark, an extraordinary one no less, but just one. The weight of the whole world is too much, even for your shoulders." Clark shook his head "I couldn't help them, too many in my care died. Burned, shot, blown, stabbed to death. I couldn't even bring myself to hate them. One of the Japanese soldiers grabbed my shirt, and looked straight into my eyes, pleading for me to save him…his entire body burned… but I couldn't. Just like I couldn't save her." Jonathan remained silent remembering how grief stricken Clark had been over the loss of his wife Lana. Breaking the silence Clark spoke again. "And now they have this A-bomb that can take away countless lives in a moment." Jonathan shook his head, "Too much power for mankind to hold" he said "They'll kill us all at this rate. You know they test those things down south of here don't you?" Clark nodded, "I'm going to see what it can do first hand." Jonathan started in his chair "Now look here Clark…" he began but Clark interrupted him. "I'm the only person alive that can confront this thing Jonathan. Now, either I can stop this death bomb or I die trying, either way I'll have accomplished something." "The world would lose its greatest soul, Clark." Clark turned his head to look at Jonathan as he leaned forward in his chair, desperately aiming to convince his old friend to change his mind. Smiling, Clark remembered back to when Jonathan was a young child trying to get to him at the top of a tree. He remembered climbing down, picking him up and then, in a single bound, leaping to the highest branch, Jonathan whooping with excitement. This was why he had to face this weapon. He needed to know if he could prevent moments like that from being taken from the people who deserved them. Too many had been robbed of life's precious moments already.

The crisp morning air gently rustled the hair of the small party gathered outside of the Kent family ranch to bid Clark farewell. "Come back and see us soon, won't you Clark?" Sarah asked as she took Clark's hand in her own aged and wrinkled one. "I'll try to get back as soon as I can" he replied, feeling uncomfortable at giving her such an answer. "Make sure that you do." Jonathan said as he paced his hand on Clark's shoulder, giving him a knowing look. "You fella's take good care of your mom and grandparents now." Clark said to the three children gathered around him. "Yes Sir we will." John replied. Standing Clark turned to bid Helen farewell, "Goodbye, Helen. Take care." "I will Clark, it was good seeing you again." She replied. Clark got in his truck and turned the key, with a start the engine came to life, putting his foot on the gas he steered himself down the dusty driveway. Looking back he waved his hand out the window before steeling himself for the next stage of his journey.

Looking out his window, he slowed as he saw the old well by the side of the driveway. Remembering how Jeremiah had jokingly recalled how he and Thomas had had to dig a new well after discovering Clark underground. Clark slammed on the brakes and turned the truck around as quickly as he could, heading back up the drive. The Kents stood puzzled on the porch of the house watching as Clark returned to them. Stopping the truck, Clark hopped out, "What's the matter Clark?" Helen called to him as he took a few steps towards the open yard in front of the Ranch house. "There something that I've always wondered but, never gotten around to doing." He replied. Walking forward Clark began scanning the ground with his eyes, he had been able to see the outline of objects for a while now. This new power had come in handy in the field when he needed an idea of what was going on inside a person's body. There it was, several feet underground, the metallic earthen womb from which he had sprung. Plunging his fist into the ground with the incredible force, throwing dirt soaring into the air, he begun to dig. The Kent family jumped back with a start, taken aback by the sudden action. Regaining his senses Jonathan stated, "He's looking for it." "Looking for what?" John queried. "You'll see." Sarah answered, uncertainty creeping into her voice, what exactly would Clark find? What answers and what questions would it bring?

It wasn't long before they all heard a loud metallic clang, Clark slowed his superhuman pace, carefully clearing the last layer of dirt covering the shiny metal object. Stepping back for a moment to take in the sight, Clark felt a sense of surrealism at the sight of the craft from which he had originated. There in the ground still partially covered by earth was a shining angular craft. The brilliant metal hull refracted light like a crystal, yet it remained metallic in appearance, shaped similarly to a diamond yet with a definite shape. Peering into the pit Clark had dug Jonathan exclaimed, "Well, I'll be!" nodding Helen commented "You sure don't see that every day." Suddenly Clark was blasted by a beam of light from the alien object, bathing him in all the colours of the spectrum as if in response to his presence. The Kent family threw their hands to their eyes to shield themselves from the intensity of the light, lowering them as it slowly began to fade. Out of the last residue of light emerged Clark floating on the air like a feather, clothed in foreign attire with a dark red cape billowing out behind him.

"Clark? Is that you?" Sarah questioned squinting into the ever diminishing light beam. "Yes, I'm all right." He replied.

"What happened in there?" Jonathan asked, amazed at Clark's new appearance "What is that you're wearing?" "I don't know" was his reply "When that light hit me it was like it was layering this on me." He gestured down to the dark blue suit that covered his body from his neck to his toes. The strange unearthly material moved with his body's motions, the multiple layers of weaving clung tightly to his form, giving him an athletic look. A gold band ran half way around his waist and a dark red patch covered his sides from the middle of his torso to his mid-thigh. Clark gazed at his hands, half covered in the strange material that left his fingers free, stunned by what had just happened. "Why's there an s on his chest?" John asked Sarah who could only shake her head in reply. "Clark, how are you doing that?" Helen asked staring in bewilderment at him floating at least one foot above the ground. Looking down he floated gracefully to the hard earth, red boots touching the ground gently as he answered her. "I have no idea." "You can fly!" little Glenda exclaimed, breaking everyone out of their stupor "Uncle Clark can fly!" Sarah burst out in laughter at the situation "Well what do you know? We have our very own sparrow!" Clark grinned, "Yeah, What do ya' know."

The air smashed into his face at a thousand miles per hour and yet he didn't feel any pain as he propelled himself faster than any commercial airliner. It was as if his whole body had been reawakened by the light from the diamond container buried deep underground. Now he could feel the power coursing through his body, making him stronger than ever before.

He could see farther than he ever had, and he was putting it good use searching for the Nevada nuclear test site. He had survived artillery shells, machine gun fire, and being set alight by a flamethrower, but now with this even greater power he could face this killing machine. He saw it miles before he arrived at the scene. Soldiers were sitting in dugout pits in the ground and scarecrows wearing surplus uniforms stood awaiting their deaths in the wide plains. But this wasn't to be an ordinary ground detonation, today an atmospheric test was planned. As he approached the site a long pillar of smoke took off into the clear desert sky, making its way to the earth's atmosphere. This was it, it was either do or die and either solution was what Clark was seeking. Setting of an enormous deafening boom, Clark tore after the missile with his arms stretched straight out before him, cleaving a path through the air. He was closing in faster than any mortal could follow and as he approached he shut his eyes, anticipating the blow. For a second time that day a blinding light scarred the Nevadan sky, and a shock wave went blasting through the air sending Clark's body rocketing heavenwards. Back to where he had originated many years ago.


	3. Chapter 3 New Beginnings

Saga One

Episode I: Superman

Chapter 3: New Beginnings

The blaring horn of an extremely irritated commuter focused Clark's racing mind to his current surroundings. Instantly taking in every detail of his environment, Clark waved to the fuming motorist as he dashed across the hectic metropolitan street. There it is. He thought to himself gazing skywards at the lofty White Media Tower the headquarters of mainstream media tycoon Perry White. Stepping inside the cool air conditioned lobby of the towering skyscraper was like stepping from an oven into a refrigerator, total relief from the scorching western sun. Images flashed across massive screens, constantly updating with breaking news from all over the world brought to the viewer by the courtesy of WGBS news, Perry's brainchild station. Tearing himself away from the captivating newsreel Clark strolled up to the main desk, an island in a sea of exciting hard hitting action. "Hello, my name is Clark Kent. I'm here for a job interview." The man behind the desk ignored Clark's introduction, typing away furiously at his desktop, "Uh, excuse me my name is Clark Kent I'm here for a job interview… about the Daily Planet." Said Clark again attempting to gain the man's attention. Looking up from his screen the young secretary gave Clark a look that could kill, "You'll want to be going to management then won't you? Just like it says on the appointment letter." He spat out with a voice dripping in so much antagonism that it could have filled three Olympic size swimming pools, "Ok, thanks." Clark replied giving the peeved man a smile. What was wrong with people these days? he thought to himself as he headed over to a large electronic board showing a map of the building, customer service has truly gone down the drain!

After twenty minutes of endeavouring to find management, and then another fifteen spent being redirected to the employee's desk, Clark was finally redirected to the correct office for his interview. A good thirty minutes after his scheduled appointment. "Excuse me, I realise I'm terribly late but my name is Clark Kent and I had an interview for a position as a reporter for the Daily Planet." For the fourth time that day he was greeted by an unfriendly and unaccommodating face, "Job interviews were over twenty five minutes ago." The secretary replied with a razor blade tongue, as she turned as quickly as she could back to her computer screen. "Oh, I see. Is there any way I could schedule another time perhaps? Leave my apologies to Mr. Rennalds? It's just that I…" Clark began before being interrupted by the secretary "Look, you've clearly blown your chance. Now just go back to wherever you came from and mooch of your parents or the government or whatever else it is losers like you do all day." That was the final straw, after being hassled, hooted at, jibed and now insulted Clark was fed up with the treatment he had been receiving. "Listen here Miss. Now I don't know what's been happening in your day, whether your dog died or you just plain got up on the wrong side of the bed today, but I have just about had it with your attitude. Now I would like to get in touch with Mr. Rennalds and apologise for missing my appointment and, if possible, reschedule for another time at his, and my, convenience. I would be very thankful if you would be so kind as to do the job that you are so blessed to hold and be paid for, and do as I ask. Expecting some snarky response Clark was surprised to the woman's eyes widen into saucers, however she was looking over his shoulder at the person standing behind him. Turning, Clark was shocked to see none other than Perry White standing in the middle of the reception room with a grin that could've split his face in two. "Well, well, who have we here?" Perry said stepping forward, his hand outstretched to Clark. "Clark Kent sir, I apologise I didn't mean to…" "Stop right there son don't you dare apologise for that little display, if only half the people that turn up here expecting a job had the same spunk as you. Hell, if that was the case our competition wouldn't stand a chance." Clark smiled "Well sir it's just been a rather slow day you see, and I was rather put out about running late." "Well I sure hope there's more where that come from, follow me to my office and we'll have a chat about that job you were after." Clark followed Perry to his office situated at the top floor of the White Media building, with a commanding view over Metropolis and a miniature indoor golfing green for Perry to practice his swing in between meetings. Reclining in his Aeron desk chair Perry motioned across his desk to its twin. "Have a seat son." He said, Clark grinned to himself, Perry White must've been in his sixties Clark had a good ninety years on him and yet here he was being called 'son'. "So, what was this job you were after?" Perry began as Clark seated himself across from him, "I applied for a position as a reporter in your Daily Planet blog sir. Frankly, I think your ideas towards internet journalism are ahead of anyone else in the field." A small smile played on Perry's lips as he mused over Clark's words, the interactive Daily Planet blog allowed reporters to take the initiative, seeking out stories on their own. Under the supervision of White Media, a handful of employed journalists could report on issues from all over the globe, interacting with their followers by receiving information directly from them as they partook in current events. Compatible with all the major social media networks, the Daily Planet had become the go to method of receiving and sharing news online, all thanks to Perry White and his media empire. "And what kind of stories would you be reporting on exactly?"

He queried, "Mainly stories affecting people right here in Metropolis primarily in lower income areas, such as suicide slum." Clark replied "Some of these areas are being affected on a big scale by various mega corporations as well as local politics. I'd be focusing on the little man and telling his story in this ever changing, fast paced city." Perry liked where Clark was taking his spin, a good controversial and social justice related blog directly from Metropolis was exactly the sort of thing he was after. "I like you Clark, I can tell you've got a real heart for the story and that you've got the guts to go after the truth of the matter." Standing up Perry continued, "And that's why I'm offering you a place in this little operation we've got going here." Leaning across his desk he shook hands with the now standing Clark, "Welcome to the Daily Planet Mr. Kent."

The heavy metal doors clanged shut, hissing as the lock reengaged, sealing of the long dazzlingly white hallway from the world. Squinting, the bespectacled middle aged man sighed as he moved to keep up with his fast paced guide as she walked with a confidence only ruthlessness could bring down the hallway. "Sure is an awful lot of security" he said as he quickened his pace to match hers, "Could this place have been made more difficult to access for the chronically tardy?" Without slowing her gait his guide answered, "I'm sure I don't have to remind you the extreme delicacy of the work done here Professor Hamilton. Years of dedicated work and sensitive information could be lost without the proper precautions." Professor Hamilton sniffed, "Still, five different scans and three passcodes seems a bit extreme." Without answering his guide marched up to yet another security door, swiping a card before entering a passcode and leaning in towards a retinal scanner, Hamilton did the same before they were allowed access. In contrast to the passageway this new room was dimly lit, except for the countless screens on every wall and surface. It gave the Professor that photographer's darkroom kind of vibe. "There's someone I want to introduce you to professor." His guide began as she made her way past numerous people working at desks and screens, little headsets in their ears, completely ignoring their presence. "Professor Emil Hamilton, I'd like you to meet Lex Luthor, head of operations here." A young man in a white shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows turned from a large screen, showing numerous strands of DNA merging and morphing, as he heard his name. What little light in the room reflected of his smooth bald head "Ms. Waller, what a pleasure to see you in this neck of the woods." Then looking at Professor Hamilton he held out his hand "And this must be the Professor I've heard so much about. Your expertise will be most welcome here Professor." Emil shook Lex's hand, taking an instant dislike to him as he did so. "Well, as soon as I'm made aware as to how my research will fit in with the sort of work you do here, I'm sure I'll be happier myself." "Lex here will brief you on everything you'll need to know Professor." Ms. Waller informed him, "Until then just make yourself comfortable." "Yes, have a look around, play with all of our fancy toys." Lex smiled waving his arms around the room. Emil nodded, how long would he be forced to work under this pretentious jerk? "Oh, and by the way." Lex said as he turned back to face Emil, "Welcome to Cadmus Professor Hamilton."


	4. Chapter 4

_At last! An update! My sincerest apologies to everyone who was following this story for my lack of speed in updating. Life and education are the main culprits in the delay of my writing. However, I don't want to use these as a scapegoat for my laziness in finishing the project I have set out upon. So, without anything else to say here it is… chapter four!_

Saga One

Episode I

Chapter Four:

He could hear the sounds of morning before he was fully awake; the singing of bird, rustling and shuffling about their nests as they began their daybreak routine. BANG! A car backfired from six blocks away, disrupting the peaceful slumber of Clark's unconscious mind, stirring now with the sounds of aircraft three miles away and the blaring heavy metal of an all-night party in a CBD penthouse. Willing his senses to dull, Clark muted the pervasive audial bombardment allowing himself to bask in a momentary silence. Opening his eyes Clark turned his head to glance at the empty space beside him. He could almost see Lana's curly auburn hair on the bare pillow next to his head, hair that he watched grow grey and then white. If only he could have grown old with her, had children with her, grandchildren. But instead here he was in the 21st century starting yet another counterfeit life with people who would slowly age before his eyes. Clark allowed the tumultuous sounds of Metropolis life to rush back into his head, willing them to chase out his painful thoughts and memories. With ease Clark half floated out of bed and onto his feet stepping forward to the bedroom window to open the curtains. His gaze was met by downtown Metropolis, and in the distance Clark could easily focus his far seeing eyes on Suicide Slum, the poorest district of Metropolis.

"Something has to change in this city." Clark thought to himself. "Suicide Slum has done nothing but grow since I first moved here in '28." "If I can get a larger media awareness of the situation there, get people thinking, acting, helping out, maybe we can start to do some good in this city."

Returning to his morning routine from his musings, Clark switched on his laptop and clicked on the Daily Planet app, navigating his way towards the Metropolis section and clicking on the early morning live pod feed. "Buenos Dias Metropolis, this is Lois Lane coming to you from the beautiful White Shore beach this Monday morning…" Clark turned up the volume on his laptop as he munched on his cereal, a morning show in Spanish? Relevant, he thought to himself, considering Metropolis' large Latin American population. A blaring car horn outside of his one bedroom rental interrupted Lois Lane's Podcast, "Who could that be?" Clark wondered to himself, peeling away the physical restrictions of the kitchen walls with his x-ray vision. A young red headed twenty something stood leaning against a metallic red sports car, its hood down so that he could easily access the horn he was so eagerly pumping.

Clark sighed aloud, what is it with these sorts of people that think that their own time is so important? "I'll let him steam for a bit" Clark thought to himself "If it's so important he'll have to have the terrible inconvenience of walking to the front door." An impatient knock on the door half a minute later brought a justified grin to Clark's face, "now, was that so hard?"

Clark opened the door and scanned his impetuous guest from head to foot. "What is up my man? Name's Jimmy Olsen the THIRD! Here to rock your world and make some mullah in this beautiful experience I call life." "Excuse me, what?" Clark replied, still not believing the introduction he had just witnessed. "I'm supposed to show you the ropes man, you dig? I've been sent from upstairs, the boss man, Mr. White himself." "Wait, Perry White sent you?" "Yeah, well…uh…in a way he did, yeah. So, shall we get started?" Clark raised a questioning eyebrow. "Started on what?" "Making news my friend, making news. That's what it's all about in this business, what's new, what's trending. We need to be there at the beating heart of the great beast that is current events." Clark raised his hands to stop Jimmy's speech "Let's just slow things down a bit. You work for the Daily Planet?" Jimmy threw up his hands and shrugged, "Guilty as charged." Clark nodded, "And you've been given my address in order to pick me up and … 'show me the ropes'?" "So he isn't as dumb as he looks!" Jimmy exclaimed, slapping Clark's arm "jump in the Olsen mobile and let's get started breaking all kinds of headlines and hearts in Metropolis." Clark just shook his head, what in earth had he gotten himself into?


	5. Chapter 5 Contact

Saga One

Episode I

Chapter Five:

Contact

Emil Hamilton raced down the corridor at a pace that belied his middle-aged waist, wresting as much oxygen from the air as he could. 'What on earth is going on?' He asked himself, wincing at the stabbing jab in his side. The young lab assistant he was following had long since given up on him and was sprinting several feet down the hall ahead. Mere minutes ago the same assistant had burst into the office he was assigned to at Cadmus, with uncertainty and haste written all over his face. Breathless, Hamilton entered through a security door behind the young assistant into a large room filled with countless screens flickering with a kaleidoscope of data. Lex stood next to a stern-faced Amanda Waller, a bemused smirk on his face as he glanced at Hamilton. 'Enjoy your morning jog, professor?' he asked as Hamilton doubled over with his hands on his knees to recover his breath. 'Are you in the habit of forcing physical fitness on your employees Amanda?' said Hamilton, ignoring Lex's quip. 'I think you'll understand our need for speediness in a minute Professor. Lex get a move on and fill Professor Hamilton in on the situation.' 'Look here Professor' Lex began, gesturing Hamilton to look at a large screen that reached from floor to ceiling. Hamilton adjusted his glasses as he peered at the strange sight before him. "What…is that?" he asked choosing not to believe his own eyes. 'That is an anomaly, an unidentified flying object.' Lex replied ''And apparently it thinks our state of the art, extremely expensive, tax-funded satellite is a good place to sit and take a coffee break'. Hamilton leaned in closer to the image trying to distinguish recognisable features on the craft. 'Is the station manned?' he asked 'Five crew members are on board and have already attempted to establish contact with the vessel.' 'And?' Hamilton queried without shifting his gaze from the screen. 'It seems that our 'friend' there thinks that we aren't worthy of holding a conversation with him.' Lex responded. 'Its an incredible piece of engineering, can we get any better shots than these?' said Hamilton finally dragging his vision away from the images displayed before him. 'The satellite crew are working on it as we speak. Let's just hope they don't accidently spark an interstellar war while they're at it'. Lex replied.

Jimmy grinned as revved the engine of his slick and shiny sports car, turning the volume of the car stereo as high as it could possibly go. 'Where are we going?' Clark shouted, trying to make himself heard over the blaring hip hop beat. 'WHAT?' Jimmy yelled back 'I SAID, WHERE ARE WE GOING?' Clark tried again, young people these days have no sense of social etiquette he thought to himself. 'GET SOME SHOTS FOR A STORY.' Jimmy hollered back. Clark turned down the volume, 'What's this story about?' 'Some mothers anniversary for her dead kid, you know, real heartbreaking stuff.' Clark frowned, 'that sounds pretty serious, whose story is this?' 'Geese, I dunno, that Lane chick I think… she does all those social justice kinda stories, you know, poor immigrant kids getting shot up in crappy neighborhoods, like the one we're headed to.'

Jimmy tore through the streets of Metropolis as if he had a death wish, overtaking corners as he attempted drift after drift, his apparent need to show off taking centre stage. Clark noted the stark contrast in the appearance of the streets they flew past, dirtier, worn down, and depressing, they were drawing closer to Suicide Slum he could tell. These same blocks hadn't been so bad when he had first arrived in Metropolis, nearly eighty years ago now, they had been built with hope for a brighter future for their inhabitants. He wondered what they would think if they could see them now. Probably just as he did.

Finally they came to a stop outside a rather run down old home just on the outskirts of the slum. 'Uuuh… could you like… wait here?' Jimmy asked Clark as he began to open the passenger side door. 'Why? I thought you were going to 'show me how things were done'?' Jimmy let out a short nervous laugh 'Yeah, well, it's a rough are… and…well…the car didn't come cheap…so…' 'Yeah, I get it.' Clark replied, unimpressed by Jimmy's conduct so far. 'Thanks, man! I totally didn't ask you to come with me just so that you could watch the car.' Jimmy called as he raced up the dilapidated front lawn to the front door of the house. Clark sighed, turning his head to look around at his new surroundings, drawing another sigh from his lungs. A group of youths in white tank tops and red bandanas stood on the corner of the street staring at Jimmy's shiny new sports car. Clark laughed to himself, imagining Jimmy in his place, 'poor kid would probably be soaked in a cold sweat by now.'

His thoughts were interrupted by a black sedan with tinted windows that came speeding around the corner the group of teenagers were gathered on. Stopping just long enough for the invisible passenger to send a hail of bullets into them.


	6. Chapter 6 It Tolls For Thee

Saga One

Episode I

Chapter Six:

It Tolls For Thee

Clark leapt out of the car and tore down the street towards the gunshots, 'Control your speed.' he chanted internally, focusing his vision on the injured teen. The dark sedan made a lethal U-turn, backfiring as it sped away adding to the panic and confusion. Clark focused his sight powers on the car's license plate, making a mental note to remember the number. Clark shifted his focus to the dispersing group that had been on the receiving end of the gunfire, a single young man lay motionless on the pavement. The barriers of cotton and flesh peeled away before Clark's x-ray vision, granting him access to the two bullets lodged in the teen's gut. He'd seen this before, countless times on and off the battlefield. If he wasn't, fast this kid could die.

He couldn't let that happen, he had seen it too many times to count. Almost all of the group had fled after the first gunshot, 'call 911!' Clark yelled at a bystander in a red hoodie. Taking one frightened look at Clark the youth in the hoodie turned tail and ran in the opposite direction as fast as his two legs could go. 'We don't have time for this' Clark thought to himself as he dropped to his knees next to the teen who was now bleeding profusely. A man in his late teens was cradling the body, crying profusely 'You've got to help me! My brother's been shot'! he pleaded with Clark. 'It's ok, I can help, but we need to get your brother to a hospital quickly. What's your name?' 'Estevan' he replied 'Estevan, I need you to go to that white house at the end of the street and get a red-haired man named Jimmy to call for an ambulance.' Estevan looked at his brother hesitantly, uncertain about leaving his side. Clark placed his hand on Estevan's shoulder give him a slight shake, 'trust me if we don't act quickly he could die. Now, go!' 'Ok, ok' Estevan replied shakenly rising from the pavement, taking one last glance at his brother before racing down the street.

Taking a deep breath, Clark turned back to the wounded boy on the pavement, he could see the internal bleeding already flooding the inside of his torso. 'He hasn't got long.' He thought to himself; 'I need to slow this bleeding before he dies of blood loss.' Whipping of his coat, he tore the sleeves on his shirt to make temporary bandages. Looking over his shoulder to ensure no one was watching, Clark began to sterilise his impromptu dressings with his heat vision. Steam began rising from the torn sleeves, any bacteria clinging to the material were burned to death in the intense heat. Clark gave the bandages a cooling blow with his breath before applying them to the open wounds, instantly soaking dark red with blood.

The boy groaned as he tried to apply pressure to two gunshot wounds 'Come on son, don't die on me know' he said aloud before opening his enhanced hearing, praying for the sound of ambulance sirens. He could still remember the first time he saw someone get shot. It was on a late summer's in 1868 that Theodore Bentley had shot Tommy Harrison in the middle of main street Smallville over some gambling debt. Pa Kent had taken him along to town to buy some supplies for Ma's kitchen. He could still hear Pa adding some extra tobacco to their order, 'just between you and me' he told Clark with a wink. Then outside the store just standing, staring at Tommy Harrison's body lying lifeless in the street, Pa's strong hand on his shoulder pulling him away…

Hearing the hurried footsteps of two individuals running up behind him, Clark turned to see Estevan, covered in his brother's blood, and Jimmy racing towards him. 'The ambulance is coming! How is he? Is he gonna' make it?' Estevan said, his voice tremoring with emotion. 'I've tried to slow down some of the bleeding, but it's up to the paramedics now.' 'Aw hell!' Jimmy said as he finally caught up with Estevan, 'aw man, he's bleeding everywhere! Aw heck! Damn! He's…he's…I uh… ugh…' 'Shut up Jimmy!' Clark yelled at his stammering acquaintance. Jimmy nodded, covering his mouth with his hand, his face turning pale at the sight before him.

The ambulance arrived sooner than he thought it would. 'We'll take it from here' the paramedic told them as she aided her partner in moving Estevan's brother, Oscar, into the ambulance. 'Will you be ok going to the hospital?' Clark asked Estevan, he nodded. 'Yeah.' 'What about your parents or guardian? Is there anyone I can contact for you?' 'Nah, well…there's my uncle, but he's…' 'How can I contact him?' Clark asked as the paramedic ushered Estevan into the back of the ambulance. 'He lives in this old camper out the front of fifty seven Martin's Avenue, but he's a drunk, man, he won't care, 'less it involves getting himself wasted.'

The doors of the ambulance shut and with sirens wailing it headed towards Metropolis Central Hospital with its fragile cargo on board. Clark looked on as it rounded the corner. It was out of his hands now, he had done all that he could. Hadn't he? 'I could've had him at the hospital in less time than it took to call 911.' He thought to himself. This life of secrecy, hiding his abilities, even when they could save lives was taking its toll. 'One day I won't need this façade. One day I'm using my abilities to help, no matter the consequences.'

Jimmy walked over to Clark, 'I don't know how you do it man, stay so calm I mean. I lost it back there.' 'Violence has that effect on you.' Clark replied 'its senseless, undiscriminating, the brain doesn't know how to cope with something so…foreign.' 'You should've seen the lady when the shots went off. I thought she was gonna' die! Brought back memories about her son I suppose.' 'Is she alright?' Clark asked Jimmy, worried about the poor woman who had already suffered so much. 'Geese, I dunno', when that kid ran in the house screaming 'call 911!' she just broke into tears. I guess we should go see how she is.' Jimmy glanced at Clark's torn bloodstained clothes, 'and we should probably get you a change of clothes.'

Clark let out a long sigh as warm shower water cleansed his body of the worries of the day. After checking in on Mrs. Henderson Jimmy had given Clark a ride back to his rental…after Clark agreed to spread his coat over the car seat. He'd had to throw out his shirt and pants, both torn and dyed in Oscar's blood. Not that he cared. What were some items of clothing compared with someone's life? 'I'd better make sure the uncle knows.' He thought to himself, 'regardless of whether or not he's an alcoholic he should be informed. Whether he cares or not.' He switched of the water and stepped out of the shower. Grabbing a coffee Clark opened his laptop and attempted to continue a story he was writing on homeless statistics in Metropolis. Not front page news as far as the Daily Planet was concerned, but important information none the less. 'Pointless.' He said aloud, angrily tapping the backspace button, erasing his work so far. 'These are real people, not statistics. How can I help people see that?' he questioned himself.

Running his hands through his hair his mind drifted back over that morning's events. 'Could I have done more?' he kept asking himself. 'At the risking of raising questions about me, where I came from. Why I am the way that I am.' An image of Oscar dead on an operating table came into his mind, the more he looked into Oscar's face the more it blended into the faces of all those he couldn't save… Ma, Pa, even Lana. He couldn't prevent death, it was a fact of life, but those unnecessary deaths he had witnessed…

There had to be something more he could do.


	7. Chapter 7 With Bated Breath

Saga One

Episode I

Chapter Seven:

Joseph Martin gave his harness another tug making sure he wouldn't be torn from his seat by the immense force of the shuttle launch. "Run those engine checks again" he spoke into his mic, "I don't want any those last minute surprises Star Labs seems to specialise in." Joseph's co-pilot, seated next to him in the cramped cockpit inclined his head towards him. "Really Joe? We're going to be fine." "Famous last words Eric." Joseph responded, wiping the back of his hand across his damp forehead, the atmosphere in cockpit dense before the a/c could be activated. Eric rolled his eyes, "You'll see Joe, everything'll go like clockwork. We'll go up to the station, finish the repairs and return home again. It'll be so routine it'll be boring." Joseph shook his head, "I wish I had your confidence Eric." Eric gave his friend a slight shake of the head, he trusted Joe's ability as a pilot and astronaut. "Still has those paranoid tendencies though" he thought to himself, swallowing the seed of doubt Joe's voiced concerns had planted in his head. "Everything'll be fine. It'll go according to plan."

Lex Luthor's brows furrowed as a speedy torrent of dialogue bleared out of the Cadmus cell phone he had pressed to his ear. "I'm well aware this is highly irregular, but you need to understand the importance of this mission…" he began before once again being interrupted by the speaker on the other end of the line. Emil laughed to himself as he watched Luthor out of the corner of his eye. "So, can't take no for an answer huh?" he thought as he watched Lex knead an eraser into a pile of shaving on his desk. "The moment he had met Lex, Emil had taken an instant disliking to the tall man, a dislike that grew stronger with every moment he spent with him. "I need to be careful around him, watch my back. He's one of those power hungry types. Uses others to his own benefit without a thought as to how it might affect them. "Do I need to remind you director of the debt your little institution owes to Project Cadmus?" came Lex's irate voice from across the operation centre floor. "You will have those astronauts in orbit ahead of schedule and you will grant Cadmus full access to the shuttle's resources. Do I make myself clear?" The air in the dimly lit operations centre grew tense as Emil and the centre's technicians waited with bated breath for Star Labs response. "Thank you director, you've been most helpful." Lex finally said after several tense moments before calmly ending the call and turning his face back to the monitor sitting on his desktop. Hurriedly, the centre's technicians returned to their work, breathing an inaudible sigh of relief at a possible hurricane diverted. Emil glanced back in Lex's direction catching him swiping the crumbled pile of former eraser to the centre floor, "He's dangerous." He thought grimly trying to focus his mind on the task at hand. "Very dangerous."


End file.
